Dance Lessons
by WitchyGirl99
Summary: Of everything that Miroku would allow himself to be called, "creeper" was not one of them. And yet there he sat, watching through the glass intently, watching not the little girls but the teacher that was teaching them. Her name: Sango. MirSan, OneShot.


**Ahahaha. I had to do this, sorry.**

**Warning: Sexual content, no lemon, yet?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.**

* * *

**Dance Lessons**

**One-Shot**

* * *

Of everything that Miroku would allow himself to be called, _creeper_ was not one of them.

Womanizer? Well, he did get a lot of women.

Pervert? Personally, he didn't agree but his female companions always did.

But creeper? Nope. Never in his lifetime.

And yet, there he sat. Miroku Tsujitani was watching through the glass intently, watching not the little girls attempting to dance hip-hop but the teacher that was teaching them. Her name: Miss Sango Houko.

Damn.

Her long black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail with only her bangs left to frame her lovely face. She had odd coloured eyes; magenta possibly but he had never gotten close enough to tell. She was incredibly thin but her ass was just so…_there_. Large and curvy and hot and oh, Miroku just couldn't wait until his "cursed" hand could get a feel of it.

Now, to make things clear, he was at the dance studio for a reason other than watching her. His best friend Hachi had a daughter several years ago. His wife passed away while giving birth to his little Sayuki so Hachi, torn and broke, was forced to work three jobs in order to make payments on the house, her toys and her schooling. Ever since his daughter decided that becoming a dancer was her destiny, he had to work extra hard to make those payments too.

Sayuki danced a mere one night a week, on Wednesdays, and since Hachi just so happened to only work Wednesday evenings, Miroku promised as a favour to take his daughter to and from dance class. It wasn't until her first dancing lesson that Miroku realized how amazingly gorgeous her teacher was.

"Hachi, you have to see her," Miroku told him one night when Hachi finally came home from work.

Hachi rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Miroku, you're getting desperate."

"Hardly my friend," Miroku retorted.

Although at the time, he hadn't been so sure.

"Well think of it this way," Hachi told him. "Only one more month until I can work the day shift and not the evening. They just have to finish training the new guy and this whole situation will be out of your hair."

"Don't worry about it," Miroku said earnestly, because he meant it. For some strange, wild reason, he didn't want to stop seeing his beautiful dancer.

It wasn't long before Miroku started looking forward to those Wednesday evenings. He'd pick up Sayuki, drop her off and then watch his beautiful goddess from afar.

"Excuse me?" A feminine voice startled Miroku out of his thoughts. He had been so entranced by the teacher before him. He was currently at the dance studio, watching yet again. Just like he had watched her for months.

Creep?

Majorly.

"Can I help you?" Miroku asked, looking at the petite woman beside him. She had blonde hair and blue eyes with very small features. She was pretty in her own white with fair skin and light freckles. Her hair had an interesting style with plenty of layers and the ends of her fine blonde hair dyed black.

"I was just wondering... What do you have against Sango?"

The question took his by surprise. "_Against_ Sango? You mean Miss Houko, the hip-hop dance teacher? Nothing, um..."

"Kirara Shiratori. I'm her partner. We opened this place together." She gave him a smile while her eyes stayed glued to his face.

"Well, Miss Shiratori, I have absolutely nothing against Miss Houko."

The woman laughed, flashing pearly whites. "And I'm supposed to buy that? You look about as uneasy as a recovering alcoholic on a wine tour."

"I'm hardly recovering. I enjoy the wine," Miroku murmured, extending the metaphor. "I honestly have nothing against her."

"You might want to tell her that," Kirara said shrugging. "All she notices is you glaring at her all the time. It's kind of creepy, actually."

And there appeared that word: creepy. Meaning, ultimately, that he was a creeper of this poor woman that he didn't even know. Although he watched her enough during her lessons that he memorized her grace, her strength and her stamina. Her smile when the children danced, the way her eyes twinkled when they cheered her name...

Damn. Miroku hadn't been glaring at her, he had been memorizing her so when he went home to fantasize about her wearing black lace lingerie...

And there he went again.

Before Miroku could make an intelligent answer, the young woman was gone. Muttering to himself, Miroku wondered how he was going to fix the fact that Miss Houko knew of his creeping. Surely she would never agree to date him if she thought he was _angry_ or worse, a _creeper_.

Suddenly, the shifting of weight on the bench startled him, and he noticed that the music was no longer playing but children's voices could be heard. Getting to his feet quickly, Miroku made his way to the studio door. To his misfortune, Sayuki was talking to his dear Sango eagerly.

When she finished the sentence, the dance teacher still tagging close behind, Sayuki broke into a toothy smile. "Did you see me?" Sayuki asked, clapping her hands happily.

"Of course," Miroku answered, smiling because she was. "Go get changed so we can take you home."

As she ran, he looked down at the woman before him and was nervous to find out that she was staring at him back. Her eyes... They were an odd colour, he concluded happily. Not the magenta that he had originally thought, but a dark brown with hints of violet. Her beauty left him breathless, but after the conversation with her dance partner, he felt the urge to speak up.

"Hi, I'm Miroku. Miroku Tsujitani," he uttered finally, reaching out his hand for her to shake.

She did so cautiously. "Sango Houko. Your daughter's a wonderful dancer for her age. She's a really fast learner."

"Oh, Sayuki?" Miroku asked, looking from the goddess to the short bouncing girl that was still skipping towards the change room. "No," he grinned. "That's my best friend's daughter. He's a single parent and works a lot so I'm helping him out."

Sango laughed. "Oh good, because she looks _nothing_ like you. You always come in with her and it made me wonder if you had ever considered doing a paternity test for her."

Miroku raised a brow but laughed anyways. "No, she definitely not mine." Well, didn't she have a quirky sense of humour.

"Well that's very generous of you," Sango said with a small smile.

Gulping, he inched towards her. He already felt his right hand twitching. "So... I hear you think I have something against you?"

Sango's eyes widened and Miroku could clearly see the beautiful blush that spread across her cheeks. She truly was a goddess. "No, where did you hear that?"

"I rarely speak of my sources," Miroku said cheekily. Yep, his hand was on its way.

Sango sighed angrily. "Damn Kirara."

"But I'm not angry at you," Miroku finished quickly, not wanting the young female to get in trouble.

The dancer teacher looked confused, her amazing eyes scanning his face for sincerity. "Then why are you always staring at me?" she asked, her voice just a bit higher. She was nervous, he decided happily. But not a scared-nervous, a heart-crazed-nervous, which meant she _liked_ his staring. HA!

Miroku shifted his weight, grinning easily. He couldn't dare tell her of his fantasies since that would be very, very bad. And what if he told her that he thought she was beautiful? Was that just a bit much too soon? He continued to get close to her until his right side was touching her left. His hand itched to grab her, the curse all of his female companions complained about was in action and ready to go. Could he do it? Was he going to on a woman he had never spoken to before a minute ago?

Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

Miroku shook his head as if to rid his thoughts. "Actually, it's because I think that you're really–"

"Bye Miss Houko!" Sayuki said, running up and grabbing Miroku's hand. "See you next week!"

And with a smile and a quick exit, his goddess was gone, his hand was twitching recklessly with no sign of release and he was left alone with a tiny bundle of joy that he currently wanted to strangle.

* * *

All week, Miroku had thought of different ways to ask Miss Sango Houko, the dance teacher, out on a date.

It hadn't been easy. Most of his ideas led to fantasies of her wearing low-cut black dresses with no panties underneath, and of his discovering all the wonderful things he was sure she could do in bed.

And in every fantasy, the one thing she would say before going down on him was _let me give you some real dance lessons_.

Oh yeah. He was gone into the world of LaLa-Land mixed with just a touch of Porno Valley.

When the following Wednesday finally came, Miroku had dressed respectably and was more than just a little early to pick up Sayuki. Always ready, the little girl raced out the door and into his sedan. When he dropped her off and left her to go change in the dressing room, Miroku walked towards the studio doors and caught the teacher's eye.

A confused look spread across her face as she approached and opened the door. "Is Sayuki sick?" she asked immediately, her eyes intent on his.

"No, no," he said immediately, grinning. "I just wanted to see how you are."

"I'm fine," she responded, still confused. "Just waiting for the next class to start."

"Mini hip-hop," Miroku stated, the lilt in his voice making it sound more like a question.

She nodded and smiled. "Aren't they cute?"

Miroku nodded and inched closer to her. "Adorable. Listen, what do you think about Italian?"

She frowned. "Yummy?"

Miroku's hand lifted closer to its target. "And what about eating it...with me?"

Sango gave a small laugh. "You've got to be kidding me?"

Hand midflight, he stopped and frowned. "Why?"

Sango shrugged. "I just met you yesterday."

"Let's call it love at first sight."

"I saw you watch me every day for the past few months."

"Still, first sight."

"But it's not mutual."

Miroku gave his heartbreaking grin that always won him the ladies in a time of need. "Please? I've already made reservations and everything."

He hadn't, but that was beside the point.

"Cocky?" she asked.

"Hopeful," he corrected and inched even closer to her form. She didn't back away, which made his confidence rise just slightly. His hand continued on its journey once more.

She sighed. "Fine. Pick me up at–"

And then she stopped speaking, speechless.

And then he sighed, blissfully content.

"Lecher!" Sango hissed loudly and slapped him across the face.

Rubbing his face and pouting, Miroku eyed her ruefully. "It was an accident, I swear!"

"I'm facing the opposite way from you, you dumbass. My ass it was an accident."

"So when am I picking you up?" Miroku asked but was quickly turned down by the studio doors slamming in his face.

* * *

The week following that Wednesday was a disaster. She didn't talk to him and didn't look at him. More or less, she pretended he didn't exist.

The week following that was only slightly better, because she _accidentally_ looked at him.

And, the week after that, Miroku considered it a success because he caught her sneaking glances at him while she was teaching the kids.

So finally, after a month of nerve-racking Wednesdays, Miroku decided to try again. Unfortunately, he was late, which in his opinion wasn't a good start. Sayuki was angry at him because she was five minutes tardy and his car was angry because it ran out of gas the exact moment he pulled into the parking lot. So instead of watching his beautiful goddess, he had to walk all the way to a gas station, purchase gas, and walk all the way back. By the end of the lesson, he smelled, was tired and wanted to go home.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Suddenly, not so much.

Sango walked towards him from the studio as the children ran to the dressing room. She was wearing a pink tank top and tight yoga pants with a flare. She looked incredibly sexy and instantly, he was no longer the tired grumpy man he had felt only seconds ago.

"Yeah, just a rough day," Miroku answered, shrugging and putting his cursed hand in his pocket. "I ran out of gas so I had to walk and pick some up."

"Oh, so that's why your eyes weren't glued to me today."

Miroku laughed. "Miss Houko, you are hilarious."

"Hardly," she scoffed. "And call me Sango."

"Miroku," he nodded, stating likewise.

A moment of silence passed between them, and Miroku felt like she was trying to read his expression. Her eyes rolled over his face, as if she was taking in every centimetre of him. It was incredibly sexy and fed the part of his body that _really_ shouldn't be fed in public.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, watching as her face went from curious to surprised.

"About what?" she asked, but the sarcasm in it was hard not to notice.

"My cursed hand," Miroku said solemnly. "It's tragic, really. Ask any of my friends. It's a real curse passed down from father to son in my family. Our right hand just has this uncontrollable mind of its own."

Sango sneezed and then glared at him. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I'm allergic to _bullshit_."

Miroku feigned hurt. "Dear Sango, that cuts me."

"I'm not your 'dear Sango'," she shot back.

"I'm extremely hurt. I think I'm going to go jump off a bridge."

"Do it."

"I'm going to scream your name as I fall."

"I'll be listening."

"You might as well push me since you've already done so much."

Sango rolled her eyes and giggled. "You're ridiculous."

"See?" Miroku said quickly. "Another insult. My ego is crushed. I can't live on."

"Oh, the horror!" Sango cried dramatically, trying not to laugh. "How could I ever repay you?"

"Dinner, tonight," Miroku shot out instantly, giving her that smile he had practiced in the mirror before he came.

"I don't think so," Sango answered.

"Jumping off a bridge now..." Miroku murmured, loud enough for her to hear.

"And then who would be able to take Sayuki to dance class? Surely you couldn't disappoint her," Sango said, playing the guilt card but Miroku smiled brilliantly.

"Actually, this is my last Wednesday here. Hachi, her father, finally was able to trade for an earlier shift, so he'll be driving Sayuki down and not me. I'll have no reason to be here anymore."

"Oh." The hesitation in her voice made him jump up and down inside.

"That is of course, unless you give me a reason," Miroku chirped.

She hit his arm playfully, her hand lingering momentarily. "As if. But I am hungry. So drop off Sayuki and come pick me up here in an hour."

"Sounds like a plan. Do I get a kiss now?" Miroku bugged.

Sango rolled her eyes. "Right. Go home Miroku."

_Slap_.

"I can't believe you!" Sango yelled.

Miroku looked down at his hand and glared at it. How the hell had it managed to get out of his pocket without him knowing. "Dearest Sango, I really didn't mean to."

"One hour," Sango seethed and stomped away.

Sayuki toddled up to him then and grabbed his hand. "Miss Houko looks really mad. What happened?"

But instead of answering her question, Miroku just whispered, "At least she didn't cancel again."

With that, the two walked out of the studio and to the car, Sayuki tired from her hour of dance and Miroku more excited than he had been in a long time.

* * *

In exactly fifty-nine minutes, Miroku parked his car out in the parking lot with a full tank of gas, clean clothing and a wallet full of money for their dinner. The sun had begun to set but the moon was still visible to the eye. Before he could even shut off his car, Sango walked out of the building wearing a fitted leather jacket, jeans and high-heeled boots.

Wow, was she fulfilling his fantasy or _what_?

Quickly running to the other side of the car, Miroku opened the door for her and bowed slightly. "My dear Sango."

"I'm not your 'dear Sango'," she reminded him but got in the car anyways.

The car ride was full of conversation, since Miroku was asking her genuine questions about her family and life. She had been orphaned at a young age with her brother after her father and mother passed away. Her brother was a few hours away attending university and living on residence there while she was in the city trying to make a name for herself. She had graduated from a university with a degree in the arts, her specialty dance, and could easily dance every style while her favourite was jazz and hip-hop.

She asked him questions about himself too. By the time they got received their entrees and desserts, they had more or less learned every little superficial detail of their lives. It was a fast conversation, and an interesting one. The two had learned, by the end of the night that they had absolutely nothing in common.

"How could you not watch _So You Think You Can Dance_? It's the most amazing show ever."

"Sango, never say those words again."

Sango grinned and leaned very close to him, her lips near his ear as she whispered, "Best ever."

Since Miroku's mind was obviously nowhere _near_ their previous conversation, he had difficulty keeping the car on the road after that comment.

"Do you watch _House_?"

Sango's eyes widened. "Uh, no. He's an asshole."

"He makes the show! Come on!" he cried.

"Nope. Not buying."

"Sango!" Miroku whined. "How could you not...?"

"This is stupid," Sango interrupted. "Let's end this."

"And talk about what?"

Sango grinned. "How about that game where you answer with the word that first pops into your head?"

"That's a bad idea," Miroku warned. "You might not like what's in my head."

"Can it get any worse?" Sango spat out.

Miroku frowned. "Ouch."

"Not like that," Sango scoffed. "I meant likes and dislikes-wise. There's nothing there."

Miroku just shrugged. "Opposites attract?"

"And love at first sight? Aren't you pushing the envelope?" Sango laughed.

"Hardly, my dear Sango."

Sango just sighed. "Please?" She ignored the previous statement.

"In the car," Miroku ordered as he waved down the server.

Five minutes later, the two were sitting in the car.

"Where am I heading?"

"My car's at the dance studio," Sango answered. "So just go back there."

Miroku nodded and started the car.

"Favourite colour?" Sango shot out quickly, remembering their game.

Miroku hesitated, momentarily forgetting before answering, "Red."

"You took too long," Sango commented. "But why?"

"It's...nice?" Miroku grimaced even as he said it. It was an aphrodisiac and he loved women in it. Especially lingerie. End of story. "Favourite animal?"

"Cat. Favourite movie?"

Miroku cursed mentally. Damn this was hard. Good Girls Gone Wild was bad, wasn't it? "_The Proposal_," he spat, thinking of the last movie his friend Kagome had forced him to go to. It wasn't his favourite. In fact, chick flicks were rather tedious except for the stripping/sex part.

Sango burst out laughing. "You softie."

"Yours?" Miroku asked, biting his lip.

"_Crank_," Sango answered.

"You like that whole dying thing? The electrical shocking–"

"That's the second movie," she corrected but then cursed. The dance studio was just ahead, but the parking lot was pitch black. "Kirara forgot to turn the outside lights on, again."

"Oh, and how do you fix that?"

Sango gave him a weird look. "Go inside and turn them on?"

"Don't judge me," Miroku stated hardly. "I don't do this owning-of-the-dance-studio thing."

"Really? Well I'll teach you." She winked at him.

Miroku almost passed out. His mind, of course, was not where the conversation was.

When they parked the car, Miroku shut it off and ran around to open the door for Sango. She laughed and smacked him lightly. "Chivalry is not dead after all."

"I'm breathing, aren't I?"

Rolling her eyes now, Sango grabbed her keys from her purse and walked towards the dark entrance. Glass doors now unlocked, she stepped inside and waved for him to enter as well. "See this light switch?"

"Light switches," Miroku corrected cheekily.

Sango growled in frustration. "The second one's for this hall idiot – now listen. The switch closest to the door just has to go up."

Miroku stared at the switch for a long moment, making humming noises before hesitantly flipping it. The outside lights turned on.

"Voila!" Sango shouted.

Miroku gave her a heartbreaking smile. "I should start my own dance studio."

Laughing, Sango moved closer towards him. Miroku watched her movements, and realized that she didn't notice the distance between them. She was only a foot away. "You're going to need a teacher."

"I've got you, don't I?" Miroku pouted, blinking his wide, puppy-dog eyes.

Sango intentionally leaned towards him that time, whispering, "I've got my own, thanks."

"But you haven't heard my offer!" Miroku cried out. "I could give you a better deal possibly."

"A better deal? I _own_ this Miroku. If I want a pay raise, I'll just do it."

Miroku nodded, grinning cheekily. "What if what I give you isn't...material?"

Sango backed away instinctively but Miroku grabbed her gently, stopping her. She blushed, the rosy crimson only shown through the dim lighting outside. He was glad the doors were glass or he would've missed her lovely fluster.

"Right. Um..." She was stuttering and her hands moved over his chest, acting out the movements to break free but not putting any effort in her push.

"Remember the first night we talked?" Miroku murmured, pulling her closer.

She leaned her upper body away since her lower half was under Miroku's control. "Um, sure?"

"Sayuki interrupted me when I was talking. I was about to tell you something important." Miroku's breath could be felt softly on her cheeks.

Sango blinked in a daze. "Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," Miroku sounded lifting his one arm to the spot between her shoulder blades. Her face was forced closer.

"W-what?" she stuttered. She blushed again.

"I was going to tell you that you're beautiful," he whispered.

"Mhmm?" Sango squeaked.

Instead of answering her, Miroku leaned in and kissed her.

God, did it feel good. Her lips were full and luscious. He could feel the heat rising from her body, the way her body tensed before slowly relaxing. She felt even better when she was responsive. Her hands ran through his hair, successfully taking out the elastic holding his hair back. She pulled his face closer to her, kissing him deeply. Their tongues danced, playing across lips and cheeks.

Miroku made a low noise close to a growl, something his friend Inuyasha was quite famous for doing. The vibration sent chills up Sango's spine and she closed the little distance between their bodies.

Miroku couldn't get enough. She was wild, hot and on fire. She grabbed at him, her hands pulling through his hair, her tongue searching every crevice in his mouth, her breasts tight against his chest, making him feel like his shirt was thinner than it was. Her hips grinded against his and he grabbed her tightly, holding her as if she was going to disappear at any moment.

His hands sunk lower and lower, circling around her waist and then sinking to her ass. Miroku groaned roughly when he pulled her closer, her ass in his hands and her body so close to his he wanted to strip their clothing and break the only barrier stopping them from being one.

"We should go to my house," Miroku whispered hoarsely when he pulled away briefly. His lips were immediately caught up again in hers. A soft feminine moan escaped her lips when she finally broke apart from his.

"How far?"

"Fifteen minutes," Miroku answered.

Sango made a soft noise and her hands left his hair to slap at something against the wall. Suddenly, the hall light burst into life. "Too long," she murmured. She dragged him for a short distance before Miroku grabbed her back to him. He picked her up as she wrapped her legs firmly around his ass and her arms around his neck. They pressed into a few walls, Miroku blind from her lips covering his face. Neither of them cared though while they were against each other, yearning, wanting...

"Office," Sango mumbled in a hurry. "Right."

Miroku made a blind turn only to have Sango's lips leave him once more. "My right."

He whirled around and finally made his way to the office. He fumbled with the door while supporting Sango, who worked teasingly on his neck. She was kissing, licking, biting, nibbling him until his mind was spinning in circles and their destination was too far for his liking.

Slowly, teasingly, Sango slid down from her position on him and walked backwards. Instantly Miroku saw it – a couch that was overstuffed, large, and more than enough room for the desires he had.

Sango spun around, her hands holding Miroku's. She pushed him gently and smiled wickedly as he fell to the couch. Sitting, he patted the spot beside him.

"Not even," she murmured, crawling on top of him and straddling his waist. "But... I want you to know that after this, you'll have to earn your next lesson. I don't do this, ever. I don't even kiss on the first date. It's a fluke."

"Love at first sight?"

Sango laughed and kissed him deeply. When she pulled apart, she nibbled his ear whispering, "Hardly. You have to earn it."

Miroku groaned a whine but smiled. "What if I already mastered the moves?" He was playing on her dance teaching metaphor.

"You've never gotten a lesson from me," she whispered hotly in his ear. "You won't be able to move when I'm done with you."

"I'm willing," Miroku sighed, kissing her again with deep urgency and need.

She responded to him instantly, their bodies moulding together tightly as their breaths intertwined.

For one last time, Sango pulled away. "Let me give you some real dance lessons," she panted hotly.

And she didn't see because she was kissing his neck, but Miroku smiled.

_Fantasy fulfilled_.

* * *

**Please tell me what you think!**

**I had to do this. One for Kagome and Inuyasha so now one for Sango and Miroku. **

**Cheers all around.**


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